


Arresting Behavior

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Humor, M/M, None - Freeform, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:52:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why is everyone at Major Crimes mad at Jim?  Just what are he and Blair doing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arresting Behavior

## Arresting Behavior

by Monica

Rating: PG 

Paring: J/B (sorta) 

Category: Humor; PWP 

Warnings: Language, and some scenarios that sound terrible but are actually harmless. Nothing else, other than what passes for my sense of humor (and that's a warning in itself). 

Thanks to Elaine for her wonderful (as usual!) Beta reading. 

Feedback: Yes, please J 

* * *

**ARRESTING BEHAVIOR**

by Monica  
Debland2@hotmail.com 

Joel Taggert strolled happily into the men's bathroom. Life was good. The mad bombers were actually taking some time off, the donuts had been fresh and plentiful this morning, and even Jim Ellison was acting mild mannered. And to top it off, it was a Saturday, and he was just dropping off some paperwork and then was free and clear till Monday afternoon. Yes, life was going well. 

He paused just inside the door, hearing noises from one of the large stalls. It was fondly known around the bullpen as the "vomitorium", since it was where rookies and others usually lost their lunch after seeing gruesome crime scenes. Now there were sounds coming from it, but not the usual barfing. 

"Geez, it does get better, doesn't it?" It was Sandburg's voice. That meant that Ellison was inside with him. 

Sure enough, Jim's voice drifted out. "Just try to relax, buddy. Take deep breaths." 

Joel frowned, wondering at this conversation. Something seemed to have hurt Blair (so what else was new?), and Jim was obviously trying to help him. Jim's voice continued. 

"I can't believe that you're still hurting. Damn." 

There was a sigh. "It was just so big!" 

"I'm sorry, Chief. I knew it was your first time. I shouldn't have insisted that you take it all." 

"It's okay, Jim. You know I wanted it. And I don't regret it at all. It felt great at the time." 

"Yeah," Jim sounded a little smug. "Told you it would." 

Another groan from Sandburg. "I just wish the morning after part was easier to deal with." 

"Well, that's why I refused to rush you." 

"I know. You took good care of me, Jim." 

Joel started to sweat a little. He had a distinct feeling that he was overhearing something that he shouldn't. He felt like a voyeur, intruding on a private moment. The big man was starting to edge toward the door when Jim's next words stopped him cold. 

"Just wait till next time, Chief. You'll like it a lot better." 

"Your assuming that there _will_ be a next time, buddy." Sandburg sounded peeved. 

"Don't let one bad experience ruin it. It'll get better every time." 

Blair sighed. "I don't know. Yeah sure, it was great at the time, but I'm really feeling it now." 

"The first time is always the worst, Chief." 

"But it was huge! I'm telling you, I took one look and nearly raced for the door. Yeah, I wanted it, I won't deny that, but now I'm kinda wondering." 

"You just need to relax more next time, Chief. Maybe some of your meditation mumbles or something. I want to do it again. Like tonight." 

Joel was frozen, not hardly believing what he was hearing. 

"I don't know. Last night we were kinda wild, and feeling experimental, and sorta high on endorphins or something. Oh, damn-" there was another groan. 

"What?" Jim sounded worried. 

"Am I bleeding again? I feel kinda funny down there." 

"Um, let me check." There was a rustle of clothes. "No, no fresh blood. You're okay." Jim paused. "God, I was kinda worried about how much you bled last night, Chief. I'm really sorry about that." 

"You should be. Yet your still whining that you want more-" 

"Hey, you're not going to bleed like that every time, you know. It was an accident, for God's sake. I said I was sorry." Another rustle of clothing. "Here, let me put some more ointment on." A few seconds later, there were happy Sandburg sighs. 

"Yeah, that feels good. Real good." 

"So Chief, about tonight-" 

Joel took off for the door, unable to stand this anymore. He would never have though that Jim Ellison, of all people, would do such a thing to his friend. Taggert prided himself on being open-minded, but he drew the line at any sort of abuse. Blair was obviously uncomfortable, and Jim was pressuring him for more! 

He stormed out of the building, plotting plans for how to beat the crap out of Ellison. Any guy who pushed someone like that deserved to get their ass kicked. 

))))))))))))))))))) 

Back in the bathroom, Blair took a deep breath. "Okay. Guess I'm ready to go back to the desk. Anyone out there?" 

"Nah." Jim helped his friend back up. "Joel came in for just a second, and then he left. Must have been dropping off the paperwork for that last case." 

"Good." Blair made his way back to the sink. "I don't want anyone to see me being such a wuss about a stomach ache." 

Jim smiled. "You're not a wuss, Chief. That was one big hamburger, and I don't think less of you for having indigestion. Bigger men than you have been thwarted by the Wonderburger Burger Wonder." 

"Wonderburger Burger Wonder." Blair shook his head. "The name alone should have scared me off. I think that they butchered an entire herd of cows to make a hamburger that big." 

"Most likely," Jim conceded. "But it does taste good, doesn't it?" 

"Yeah," Blair granted. "But I have no intention of going there and trying another one again tonight. I think I've had my red meat quota for an entire year." He threw Jim an accusing glance. "My first hint that it was evil should have been the fact that it's not on the menu." 

The older man shrugged a little. "They only tell their best customers about it. It's sorta an initiation of sorts. And you know that I don't get one all the time. I was just in the mood for one big hamburger last night. Even you said that you were in the mood for red meat instead of twigs and bark." 

Blair snorted, but agreed. He had been the one to suggest a hamburger. He took a few more antacids. "Okay, I think the indigestion is under control now. Thanks for hustling me in here. I thought for a second I was gonna barf again, and that would have been so embarrassing over a hamburger." 

"No problem, Chief. And I do feel really bad about your knees." 

"You should. Tell me again why in God's name you left a pair of scissors on the bathroom floor?" 

"I didn't leave them on the floor. I left them on the edge of the sink, and they fell onto the floor when you went crashing in there to puke in the middle of the night," Jim said defensively. "And to answer your question, I was trimming threads off the towels." 

Blair managed a grin. "And when I dropped to my knees to worship the porcelain god, I landed right on them." He winced a little at the memory. Between his rolling stomach rebelling against all the cow, and the sharp pain of bare knees landing on scissors, it had been a bad moment. But having Jim fuss over him, applying ointment to the cuts, bandaging his knees, generally feeling guilty over the indigestion and the wounds, did help him feel a little better. 

He splashed a little water on his face, and pushed his hair back. "Okay. Guess I'm ready to go back and face the world." 

Jim patted him on the back. "And I promise, no more Wonderburger Burger Wonders for a long time." 

"Thank God." 

* * *

Megan smiled as she opened the door to the top of the building's roof. A unseasonably warm spring day was hinting that summer was arriving soon, and she intended to take advantage of it. She'd had just about enough of the stale coffee/donut smell in the break room for one day. Time for a little fresh air and maybe even catch some rays. She pushed up the sleeves of her blouse again, hoping to start an early tan. 

Once on the roof, she started around the high doorway, only to pause when she heard voices from the other side. The people speaking were hidden by one of the huge air conditioning units, sounding like they were in the small covered area created by a partial roof. Megan perked up upon identifying Sandy and Jim's voices. Curious as to what they were up to, she decided to not make her presence known yet, and just listen for a spell. 

"God, Chief, I'm sorry. I should never have pressured you." It was Jim, sounding truly contrite. Megan frowned a little, wondering what the brute had done to Sandy now. 

"I told you I didn't want to do it, you big testosterone laden bully," Sandy replied. "You just couldn't wait, could you?" 

"I needed you, Chief. But you're right. I gotta just control my needs better. Damn!" 

Megan's frown changed to a scowl. Her assessment of Jim being a brute changed to a SOB. 

"Jim, I know you need me, and usually I'm happy to comply, but just be careful about when and where, okay?" 

"No problem," Jim answered apologetically. "Let me rub you again, all right? It might help you feel better, and get you more in the mood for another round." 

'Another round?!' Megan shrieked mentally. Why that--- 

"I'm really down for the count here Jim. And I'm totally not in the mood." Good for Sandy, Megan agreed. Sticking up for himself was good. 

There was a pause, and the sound of rustling clothes. 

"Ah, God, Jim. That does feel good," Blair purred. 

"Told you, Chief." Jim seemed incredibly self-satisfied. 

"But I'm still not changing my mind," Sandy said in a warning tone. "Don't expect me to reciprocate. I'm too drained here." 

"Okay," Jim sighed, his pouting evident even in his voice. "Well go back downstairs." 

Megan snorted, and turned to go back. She wanted nothing more than to charge in and tell off that bastard Jim, but now was not the time. Sandy had stood up for himself pretty well now, and her interrupting to kick Jim in the balls might not be the best support for him. Men were really sensitive to things like that, even one as enlightened as Sandy. 

With a sigh, she went back down, trying to decide how best to get revenge on Jim. Maybe a strategic tire slashing incident? Substituting the dark beer that Jim openly loathed for coffee during a meeting? 

So many methods for revenge...so little time. 

))))))))))))))))))) 

Out near the ledge of the building, Blair turned his head to peer up at the Sentinel crouching over him. Jim was concentrating now on Blair's shoulder, which had been bumped when they landed on the hard roof. "It feels better now, Jim. Really." 

Jim just continued his massage for a minute, then finally patted him, and helped him stand. "Chief, I really am sorry. I know how you feel about heights and all. It was dumb for me to insist that you come up here." Jim didn't know who had zoned worse; he or Blair. 

"It's okay," Blair assured him, not protesting as Jim put an arm around him, and guided him back to the security of the doorway. "Just be more careful where you pick to listen for sounds, okay?" 

"Yeah." Jim looked back out at the beautiful skies as they relaxed in the doorway. "I was just going nuts trying to figure out what it was, and I thought I'd get better reception, or whatever, up here." 

Blair smiled. "I know, and that's cool, but just don't insist that I have to get up on the ledge with you so I can help you focus." He had frozen, and it turned out being Jim who had to help focus and talk his friend off the ledge. Blair had seized hold of the railing, and refused to let go. In the end, it had taken a sharp pull from Jim to make him let go, and both had fallen back on the hard roofing. 

"So, was it worth finding out that you can hear birds dive-bombing the bird feeder on the 3rd floor?" 

Jim blushed. He didn't know what was more embarrassing; that he had zoned on birds, or that Blair had gone up onto the ledge to talk Jim out of the zone. As soon as Jim had recovered, Blair had freaked at the height. 

The younger man now just smiled. "You done pouting about wanting to go find that other noise?" Jim had been complaining all day of two distracting and unusual sounds. They had identified one; there was still another one out there bothering the Sentinel. 

"Yeah," Jim said firmly. "It can wait. I think it's time to get back to the safety of our desks." He kept his arm around Blair as they started down the stairs. "I can hear Simon returning from his meeting bearing fresh donuts." 

* * *

Henri paused on his walk down the hall. Usually doors to the interrogation rooms were left open unless in use. He knew that no one had been brought in, yet one door was closed. He edged a little closer, curious, until he could make out the faint sounds. Ah, Ellison and Sandburg's voices. 

"Um...gooood." It was Jim, practically purring. 

"Jim, get off me." Sandburg sounded breathless and a little ticked. 

"Goooood," Jim just repeated. "More, more." 

"No way, man. I told you that you had to wait until we were home. Now get off me! And watch where your hands are." 

There were sounds of a scuffle. 

"Come to daddy Jim," Ellison coaxed. 

Henri's eyebrows shot up. 'Daddy?' 

"I said 'no'. What part of that word don't you understand?" 

Ellison just seemed more insistent. "Want more. Now!" 

Sandburg let loose a little yelp. "Get your hand off my butt this instant! That is not going to work. And try to use words above one syllable." 

"Another," Jim obliged with three whole syllables. Then he degenerated again. "Come to me. More, more, more-" 

Henri decided to leave while he still could. If he heard anymore, he was going to barge in and punch Jim out for being a pushy jerk. If Ellison wanted a little nookie, he should go elsewhere, and not push Blair around. Come to think of it, he was always ordering Blair around. 

What a jerk. Maybe a stern talk was in order. And if that failed, a good sharp left jab. 

))))))))))))))))))) 

Jim managed to snag another cookie off the plate that Blair was trying to shield with his body. "Goood," he sighed. "God I love these almond cookies of yours, Chief." 

"If you keep eating them, there won't be any left for the bake sale," Blair retorted. "You can just donate the money to reimburse them for the profits that you have literally eaten." He surveyed the platter to see how many he had managed to save from the hungry Sentinel. "Still two dozen left. Okay, Rhonda won't kill me then. I promised her at least that many." 

Jim grunted around his mouthful. "I hope they have a lot more bake sales. I could get used to this at the station." 

"The sale is to help raise money for new playground equipment at the local elementary school. Given what school funding is lately, I think we'll have a _lot_ more bake sales." Blair arranged his platter of cookies on the table, which was crowded with other baked goods. 

"Good idea keeping it secret, and then giving all of us a nice surprise for a change," Jim agreed. " I know I was happy when I smelled all the good things in here." He eyed the table and licked his chops as he mentally picked out which delicacies to claim for himself. 

"Back off, Hungry One," Blair said. "You need to give those who can't smell out the surprise a chance. I should have known that you would show up early." 

"Just followed my nose, " Jim replied. He did some quick mental arithmetic, and then pulled a $10 out of his wallet. "This will cover it," he said handing it to Blair. Another look at the table. "Um, here's an extra $5. Just to be sure. It'll also cover the cookies." 

Blair accepted it with a sigh, as Jim eagerly began gathering his chosen goods. 

* * *

Blair looked up as Jim arrived home. A good indication of how Jim's day had gone was how he placed the keys in the basket. A confident casual toss was a sign of a good day. A tired lob was seen as the result of a so-so day. Tonight, Jim hurled the keys in just the general direction of the innocent basket. A very bad sign. 

"What's up?" 

Jim grabbed a beer and fell on the couch. "Dammed if I know. Everyone seems to have it out for me at the station." 

The younger man frowned. "How so?" 

"Well, to begin with, as I'm walking in this morning, Henri shoved me up against the wall, and then dared me to try and make something out of it. Megan, at last count, called me a bastard eight times, a SOB thirteen times, and something involving a kangaroo, that I won't repeat, six times." 

Jim took a grateful deep swallow of the beer. "But strangest of all was Taggert. He came over to my desk, leaned over, and told me in no uncertain terms that if he even suspects that I'm doing something I shouldn't, he's going to rip my lungs out and tie them around my throat." 

Blair frowned. "Wonder what he could mean by that? Joel is the last person who would ever make threats like that." 

"I don't know," Jim sighed. "Right now, I just want to relax and turn in early. Hopefully, things will be back to normal tomorrow. People are just so damn weird. I mean, you'd think they saw me do something rotten...or perverted, or something." 

Blair snorted. "Like that would ever happen," he agreed. 

"Yeah." Jim finished off the beer. "Maybe I should listen in a little. Might learn something new. People are acting strange, and I guess I better find out so I can straighten them out." He looked up. "Okay, enough of that ridiculous stuff. What's for dinner?" 

Blair smiled. Yep, everything was just perfectly normal. 

The End 


End file.
